


Murder of Crows

by chris_phd



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dark Thor (Marvel), Eventual Smut, F/M, King Thor (Marvel), Like, M/M, Shameless Smut, Thor King of Hell, cheeky Loki, implied Hela/Heimdall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 23:58:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15896763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chris_phd/pseuds/chris_phd
Summary: “I am Thor, the King of Hel, the blood-drenched God of the Deathstorm.”Even his voice sounded weird to him. He felt different, leading all the soldiers of Hel against Sindr, how he was ready to destroy Surtur’s daughter once and for all, but her call to Malekith saved her from his wrath.





	Murder of Crows

It was done.

For the moment, the battle was over. The molten flames glowed on the ground along with the carcasses of Sindr’s soldiers, ashes flying in the air around him, filling his nostrils with the smell of death and fire.

His hand still tingles from where he touched the Hel-Crown. He remembers how he felt the calling of darkness pull him toward it, how he unconsciously lifted it and replaced it with his head armor. How the clatter of metal sounded in his mind when he dropped it, almost like the echo of him releasing the moral, the righteous part of his soul, replacing it with the dark power of the crown. 

“I am Thor, the King of Hel, the blood-drenched God of the Deathstorm.” 

Even his voice sounded weird to him. He felt different, leading all the soldiers of Hel against Sindr, how he was ready to destroy Surtur’s daughter once and for all, but her call to Malekith saved her from his wrath. 

He looked at the weapon in his hand, it felt heavy compared to Mjolnir, born out of the pureness of that dying star, a sacrifice turned into a gift for the young god. But this was a weapon made out of sacrifice as well, the blood turned hard as iron weighing the lives it was made out of like the arm of the justice’s scale.

The soldiers await for his orders, but he waved a hand toward them, dismissing them. He turned on his way toward Hel’s palace, his mind full of the day’s events. Hela denied his request to follow their enemies and defeat them once and for all, bringing protests and arguments against her decision. 

And what did his darling sister do hearing all of those? She chose to ignore them and left him alone, to rule Hel, while she and Heimdall went off into the metaphorical sunset on their honeymoon. Typical Hela.

“Just because she is the big sister doesn’t mean she can just run off and leave us to deal with the aftermath…” He sighed, running a hand over his forehead, feeling the tiredness creep up on him as he walked into the room of the throne, his eyes roaming interested over the walls decorated with murals of war and pain. 

Sitting down on the dark throne, he let out a sigh of relief, as if the room took a little of the edge he felt. His veins were pumping with poisoned blood that seeped in every cell, making him crave to just stand up and storm off and go start a war. With anyone. He wanted to fight… he wanted to raise his hammer and let it fall off over the head of the unworthy, to see how the blood seeps from under it, from the crushed skull, to…

His thoughts froze when he spotted the mirrors on both sides of the throne room, showing him a perfect view of the new ruler of Hel. He stood up and got closer to his reflection, and for a moment he had the distinct impression that someone else was coming toward him.

“You look ravishing, brother..” A dark purr echoed in the room, and he smiled a little at the familiarity of that scene.

“Loki…” He nodded at him, watching his silhouette appear behind him in the mirror. “I thought you were with Valkyrie and Skruge…did anything happen?” he raised a brow at the dark haired man.

“No…nothing happened. Of course Brunhilde got drunk and Scrooge did too…that oaf can brag as much as he wants that he is a soldier and has honor, but starting to rant from stress after drinking one beer and rambling about how dangerous “the war he fought in” was only proves that I did well to put him in place to wipe the floors around the bifrost…” Loki tsked, coming closer, his glance measuring his brother’s demeanor. 

The raven smiled to himself, feeling the tension in the air, conflicting emotions radiating from his brother’s aura. He could see the Thor he knows so well get swallowed by the darkness of power emanating from the crown on his head, and beckoned by it, he got closer to him, coming to stand behind him as he admired himself in the mirror.

“Hm…Skurge does need some more training… to keep his mouth shut…” Thor sighed, and silence set upon them.

“What is it, brother? Tell me...” he came to whisper in his ear, his hands coming to rest upon his clothed shoulders, the red cape he was used to being gone, replaced by a silky dark one that made his pale hands strike a contrast with his clothing, and seeing how Loki’s arms sneaked around him gave him the distinct impression of a snake coming to wrap itself around its prey before it devoured it. 

“Nothing…”

“Of course it’s something, do you think I am stupid to not notice?” His eyes were fixing Thor with an interested expression. “It’s the crown…isn’t it? Making you feel like you are not yourself… is the righteous little prince too weak to bear this tremendous power…? Perhaps you should give me the crown, since I am definitely more suitable to-argh!” his words died in his throat when a flutter of darkness passed in front of his eyes and Thor’s hand was on his throat, gripping hard, making his breath hitch as his hands came to grip his arm, an expression of surprise passing on his face as he saw his brother’s face up close.

He didn’t get to see the little changes in him during the battle, being too busy with defending the kingdom from Sindr’s soldiers, but up close, it was different.  
When they were on the battlefield, he saw how Thor picked up the crown and suddenly lighting and thunder stuck from above, wind blowing and the earth shaking from the power that came off from his being, how he was hungrily swinging his hammer and killing everything that was before his eyes, but now…now he saw the sky blue of his eyes darkened entirely, his jaw set in an expression of murder and his lips pursed in a cold line, making him shiver with the intensity of his brother’s gaze upon him.

“I assure you, brother, I am nor weak, nor afraid of this power…If Hela trusted me with guarding her Kingdom, then so I shall do, because now I am the rightful King of Hel….” He purred, releasing his grip a little when he saw his brother’s lips color a little blue, and his face lose its color. “I shall be respected in here, and if it is a lesson you must learn, then I will be sure to teach it to you…personally.” He laughed coldly, making a shiver run down Loki’s spine as he rubbed his throat, scoffing at the annoying blond.

“How many times did I actually hear this line? Gods… I am tired of it, Thor…” He rolled his eyes, turning his back on Thor and walking around the room a little bored, inspecting it to see if he found something interesting, but getting tired of it, he took a seat in Hela’s throne, watching the ceiling with a glare. “Pfff… This place would have been perfect for me, brother, and you know it. You are lucky our sister had a lapse of judgement caused by your stupid friend enough to trust you with keeping her place…” He rolled his eyes. “King of Hel my ass…” He mumbled under his breath, watching Thor’s back with interest, wondering when he will snap. He could feel the tension in the air building, he could feel the anger and frustration radiating from him, and it only sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine…Oh Gods…he could almost feel the weight of that power...almost as if it were coursing through his veins.

Until…something heavier than that tension settled in the air.

Thor’s voice, echoing through the entire room, as he stood in front of him in all that dark glory, the words spoken in a low tone making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in alert.

“You will learn to respect your king, brother…” He warned, and Loki watched his brother with a little smirk, and a challenge shining in his eyes, and that expression was rivaled by Thor’s own dark gaze.

Challenge accepted.


End file.
